


Refuge

by whatstheproblembaby



Category: Glee
Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, bed sharing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-01
Updated: 2015-07-01
Packaged: 2018-04-07 05:42:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4251561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whatstheproblembaby/pseuds/whatstheproblembaby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>anons prompted: Kurt witnesses a crime and is wrongfully accused of it and so he has to hide to escape being arrested/jail. Cue running-from-the-law!Kurt who is very paranoid that he will get caught, he is alone and terrified. Blaine finds him sleeping behind his shed on morning: meeting, fluff, falling in love etc etc</p><p>+</p><p>Kurt is lost in the woods during the night and Blaine finds him. The rest is up to you.</p><p>Disgustingly fluffy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Refuge

Kurt tripped and almost fell over yet another tree root, more clumsy than usual in his exhaustion but still too afraid of being caught to stop running. He didn’t know if he’d managed to put two miles or twenty miles between himself and the cops - only that if he stopped, he was going to be arrested for a crime he hadn’t committed.

He supposed he couldn’t blame the poor old lady who’d screamed that he was her mugger. She’d had a face full of blood and tears, so to her he probably did look like the man who had attacked her. If he’d been thinking rationally, he would’ve just waited for the police to come and explained himself.

Unfortunately, his adrenaline had been up from his morning jog, and he’d bolted almost before she had finished accusing him.

Now it was hours later and he was in the middle of the woods somewhere, still running as fast as he could. He could tell he’d lost most of his speed, though, and he knew he had to find somewhere to rest for a few hours until daylight. Then he could figure out his next move.

A tiny copse of trees behind a utility shed came into his line of sight, and he nearly dropped to his knees in relief. He could definitely hide himself in the underbrush until morning, and the shed might be able to provide him some cover if it rained or if he decided to hide out for a while. It looked old and worn, giving Kurt hope that it was abandoned or at least not used frequently and thus would be a safe place for him.

He started heading for the copse, wincing as he twisted his left ankle particularly hard against a rock. He knew he had scratches all along his legs and face from the pine trees that comprised most of this wood, but he’d managed to avoid any serious injury so far, and his arms had stayed blessedly safe thanks to his thin cotton sweatshirt. He could tell this twisted ankle might not just wear off by morning, though, adding another worry to his already long list.

 _Tomorrow’s problem,_ he thought, collapsing into the dead leaves behind the shed. _For now, I need to sleep._

Cold and uncomfortable as he was, Kurt fell asleep the second his head hit the ground. When he woke again, the sun was just visible over the trees to his right, and a man was standing near him, looking stunned.

A _gorgeous_ man.

Kurt instantly sat up and drew his legs to his chest defensively, hissing when his ankle complained at the motion.

“Are you alright?” the man asked softly. His honey-colored eyes were full of concern, making something twist in Kurt’s gut. “Can I help you?”

“No,” Kurt said, trying to push himself up. “I’m fine.”

“Really? Then stand up,” the man said. He raised his big, black eyebrows knowingly.

Kurt glared at him for a moment before saying, “I might have twisted my ankle in the night.”

“Lucky for you, I have an ace bandage in my house,” the man said, unfazed.

“Why do you want to help me?” Kurt asked, wary. The man hadn’t mentioned the police yet, but he was sure he had made the news, and he didn’t want wrist cuffs to match the bandage around his leg.

“You look like you could use a friend,” the man said simply. “I’m Blaine.”

He walked closer and reached out a hand, which Kurt slowly took.

“Kurt,” he replied. He bit his tongue and waited for the flicker of recognition in Blaine’s pretty eyes, but nothing came.

“Kurt,” Blaine repeated, smiling. “Let’s get you inside.”

The walk took longer than it should have, as Kurt had to wrap an arm around Blaine’s shoulders and hop to avoid putting pressure on his bad leg. Blaine didn’t seem to mind, though, and Kurt couldn’t say he was too disappointed himself. Blaine’s warmth felt comforting, and their bodies somehow _fit_ together, like they were two adjacent puzzle pieces.

Kurt couldn’t help but shiver when Blaine moved away once they’d gotten him situated on an armchair inside Blaine’s cozy house.

“First, we’ll fix your ankle, and then we’ll get you some blankets,” Blaine said, noticing the reaction. “Sound good?”

“Heavenly,” Kurt said, still a bit amazed that Blaine had just taken him in.

“Don’t move,” Blaine said, winking. He hustled off as Kurt let out a truly unattractive snort of laughter, returning quickly with the promised bandage.

“I can do that,” Kurt said, realizing he might not smell too appealing after a long day of sweating and the subsequent night in nature. “Gimme.”

Blaine acquiesced easily, watching as Kurt ditched his shoes and socks and wrapped his bad ankle as best he could.

“Looks good,” he said once Kurt was finished. “Ready for part two?”

“You’re not afraid I’ll get dirt all over your blankets?” Kurt asked.

“That’s what washing machines are for,” Blaine replied. “Come on.”

He helped Kurt out of the chair, offering himself up as a crutch again as they traveled down the hall to a small, blue bedroom.

“You rest as long as you need, okay? I’ll just be doing chores around the house,” Blaine said once Kurt was situated. “Sweet dreams.”

Kurt wanted to reply, but he was out almost immediately, surrounded by soft blankets and the enticing smell of sandalwood.

_______________________

It was still light when Kurt awoke, leaving him a little bemused.

“Blaine?” he called, sitting up and rubbing his eyes.

Blaine appeared moments later, wearing different clothes than before.

“I was beginning to think you’d passed out on me,” he said, smiling. “It’s been a whole day.”

“What?” Kurt said, taken aback. “You’re kidding.”

“Nope,” Blaine said. “You must have really needed the sleep.”

“I think what I really need next is a shower,” Kurt said, noticing the itch of dried sweat all over his body. “I feel disgusting.”

“Would you believe I have one of those, too?” Blaine teased. “Can you get up, or…?”

Kurt swung his legs out of bed and tried to put his weight on his left foot. “Ow. Nope, still too tender. Not as bad as yesterday, though.”

“Here,” Blaine said, crossing over to help lift Kurt. He winced as Kurt’s weight hit his shoulders. “Oof.”

“Am I hurting you?” Kurt asked anxiously.

“No, I just - had to sleep on the couch last night, and it’s not the comfiest object in the house,” Blaine said, twisting his neck in a circle. “This is the only bed I’ve got.”

“You let me take your bed?” Kurt said incredulously. He smacked Blaine in the chest as they started for the bathroom.

“Ow! What was that for?” Blaine yelled.

“I’m not putting you out of your bed, Blaine. Tonight _I’m_ taking the couch.”

“No, you’re not. It’s terrible, and you’re already injured. I’m taking the couch until further notice,” Blaine said stubbornly.

“What if-” Kurt began, biting his lip when he realized how forward his plan sounded.

“What if?” Blaine prompted.

“We just share your bed. I mean, it’s definitely big enough for both of us, and we could probably build some kind of pillow barrier if you wanted, I won’t be offended,” Kurt rambled.

“If you’re okay with that, I’m okay too,” Blaine said when Kurt stopped for air. “I can’t say the idea didn’t cross my mind when I was tossing and turning this morning.”

“Then it’s settled,” Kurt said. “Uh, next problem: how am I going to shower if I can’t stand unsupported?”

“I have an idea,” Blaine said.

______________________

“This is ridiculous,” Kurt giggled under the shower spray.

“But it worked!” Blaine responded, laughing along.

Blaine’s brilliant idea had been to find his swim trunks and help Kurt strip to just his underwear, allowing them both to preserve their modesty but still let Kurt use him as a human crutch. Kurt had been apprehensive at first, but Blaine had kept the mood light and easy. He’d even helped Kurt rinse out his shampoo, making him have to bite back a purr of contentment.

They’d finished showering ages ago, wasting time by flicking soap bubbles at each other until the water finally turned cold. Blaine helped Kurt out and onto the closed toilet lid before snagging them both towels.

“Need some help getting that bandage back on? I’m afraid you’ll fall off trying to do it there,” Blaine said as he dried himself off.

“You’re probably right,” Kurt said. “Let me just towel it off real quick.”

He dried himself off as best he could, then extended his leg silently as a sign he was ready. Blaine got the hint and knelt down next to him, wrapping his bruised ankle with precise, gentle motions that felt inexplicably like a caress to Kurt.

“There we go,” Blaine said, looking up and making eye contact with Kurt. The world slowed, narrowing to Blaine’s thumb rubbing along Kurt’s leg and his sparkling hazel eyes.

Kurt gaped for a moment, feeling like a fish out of water, until he finally gulped, “Clothes.”

“Clo- _clothes,_ ” Blaine said, shaking his head. “Right. I have some sweatpants I stole from my brother and an old t-shirt of mine, they should fit you well enough.”

“Anything will be better than what I was wearing earlier,” Kurt said, shuddering lightly at the thought of how awful his jogging clothes had become. “Thank you.”

“It is honestly no trouble at all,” Blaine said, soft and serious.

_______________________

Kurt spent the rest of the day icing and elevating his foot while Blaine tended to the small gardens out back where he grew his own vegetables. Blaine apparently had the process down to an art, though, as he was back inside before Kurt even needed a fresh ice pack.

“There’s nothing much to do until everything starts to ripen,” Blaine said, plopping down on the floor by Kurt. “Once I make sure nothing’s withered or being eaten to destruction by animals, I’m set.”

“So then what do you do?” Kurt asked, wondering how someone filled their days out here in the wilderness.

“Usually watch TV or play my guitar, catch up on my reading, all that jazz,” Blaine said. “Any of that sound exciting to you?”

“I’m not a big TV watcher,” Kurt lied, hoping he didn’t sound too suspicious. “I could probably read.”

“Wait,” Blaine said, looking excited. “I just remembered - I have board games. I don’t get to play them much, being out here by myself most of the time.”

“Board games it is,” Kurt said, infected by Blaine’s enthusiasm.

The board games lasted them the rest of the day, since both of them were stubborn and determined to win more often than the other. Finally, after three rounds of Life and a marathon session of Monopoly, Kurt couldn’t keep hiding his yawns and Blaine nearly fell asleep on his hotels.

“Bedtime?” Kurt asked.

“Bedtime,” Blaine said, standing up and stretching before offering an arm to Kurt. They walked slowly down the hall, stumbling a little in their sleepiness.

“I’ll, uh, try not to be a blanket hog,” Kurt said once they were safely to bed.

“If you snore, I’m sending you back out to the woodshed,” Blaine teased through a yawn. “Good night, Kurt.”

“Good night, Blaine.”

Kurt took a few minutes to fall asleep, hyper-aware of Blaine’s body warmth next to him. When he woke up the next morning, he noticed that his pillow had developed an intense yet pleasant raspberry smell overnight.

Then he cracked an eyelid and realized he was cuddled up on Blaine’s chest, nose buried in his neck just under his hair. Blaine himself was still asleep, one arm around Kurt’s back and a contented smile on his face.

Kurt stiffened, and something about the motion made Blaine’s eyes flicker under his lids. He woke up with a soft grunt.

“Wh - Kurt,” Blaine said, blushing. “Oh God, did I grab you in the night?”

“I don’t know if I rolled over or you pulled me in. Maybe both,” Kurt said, feeling a matching flush pop up on his own cheeks. “I’m so sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry,” Blaine said. “I didn’t mean to-”

“I’m not trying to-” Kurt said, speaking over top Blaine. They both cut off when they realized the other was talking.

“So we’re okay?” Blaine asked after a moment.

“Yeah, we’re okay,” Kurt said. “Maybe even a little better than okay. You make an excellent pillow, Blaine.”

Blaine’s tiny smile at that made Kurt’s heart flutter in his chest.

_____________________

Kurt spent the next week healing up and getting to know Blaine over rounds of board games and meal prep. The other man was astonishing easy to talk to, in Kurt’s opinion, generally cheerful and open in a way that called out to Kurt and made him want to be just as honest.

(He still didn’t tell Blaine he was a wanted, framed criminal, though. He wasn’t entirely sure how to bring that up. Thankfully, Blaine never asked exactly why Kurt had been behind his shed that night, accepting Kurt’s “I needed to get away” as explanation enough.)

Their interests also meshed, interestingly enough. Plenty of back issues of _Vogue_ were in with Blaine’s little collection of books, giving them conversational fodder for days as they dissected past editorials and judged old trends. Kurt couldn’t recall ever enjoying time with another person so much.

Of course, it didn’t hurt that Blaine was easy on the eyes, too. Kurt wasn’t sure he’d ever get used to Blaine’s bright smiles and intense gazes, though his heart would probably appreciate the break. If he was being entirely honest with himself, he was prolonging his time with Blaine as much as possible in the hopes that Blaine would reveal he felt the same way.

 _Some of the comments he makes,_ Kurt thought one night as he was falling asleep. _And the way he always offers to help me out, though he knows my ankle’s pretty much better. Does he...can he…?_

He shook off the thoughts and tried to focus on sleep, curled up close to Blaine as usual - they’d given up on keeping personal space after the second morning they’d woken up in a cuddle.

About a week and a half into his stay at Blaine’s, Kurt woke up early one morning and snuck out to the kitchen, glad he could finally walk unaided again. He couldn’t surprise Blaine with breakfast if Blaine had to help him move, after all.

He quickly gathered the supplies for eggs and fruit, glad he’d figured out where everything was after days of watching Blaine flit around like a professional chef. Blaine wandered in a few minutes after the scent of coffee had filled the kitchen (and likely, the rest of the tiny house), blinking his eyes in awe.

“Kurt,” he said, voice rumbly with sleep and what Kurt hoped was affection. “What’s this for?”

“You have gone above and beyond in taking care of me recently,” Kurt said, stirring the eggs one last time to get them perfectly scrambled. “I’m returning the favor.”

“You don’t have to-”

“I _want_ to,” Kurt interrupted. “Now get a plate, honey.”

He bit his lip harshly when he realized what had slipped out.

“Honey?” Blaine asked. A small, hopeful smile appeared on his face. “So would ‘sweetheart’ be okay with you, then?”

Kurt answered that question with a kiss, only pulling back when the smell of burnt eggs was too strong to be ignored.

_______________________

They were a month into their relationship when Kurt finally broke down and told Blaine why he’d been in the woods that night.

“I stopped to help a woman after she’d been mugged, and she was so confused and scared that she thought I was the mugger,” Kurt said, hand-in-hand with Blaine on the couch. “So she screamed for the cops and I just ran. You can probably figure out the rest.”

“So that’s why you practically threw the TV out the window when I tried to turn on the news one night?” Blaine asked.

“I didn’t want you to hear that I was an accused criminal and kick me out,” Kurt said. “I know I should have told you earlier, but I was just so afraid.”

“I get it,” Blaine said. “I probably would’ve done the same in your shoes.”

“That’s the only secret I’ve kept from you, I swear,” Kurt said, squeezing Blaine’s hand. “I don’t have any husbands locked in an attic or anything.”

“I’m not worried, Kurt,” Blaine said gently. “I mean, I knew you had to have something you were hiding if you were sleeping behind my shed in the state you were in. Plus, if you really were a criminal, you would have acted by now.”

“You make some good points,” Kurt joked. “I’m glad one of us doesn’t overreact to everything.”

“I always knew my calmness would be what landed me a boyfriend in the end,” Blaine said, laughing. “Ow!”

Kurt kissed over the spot he’d punched on Blaine’s arm before continuing, “Anyways, I was telling you today because...well, I wanted to finally turn on the news. Maybe they found the other guy.”

“Let’s find out,” Blaine said. He grabbed the remote and flicked to a local news station, where a news alert was flashing.

“That’s my dad!” Kurt gasped. “Turn it up.”

“It’s been over a month since my son disappeared after being falsely accused of a crime,” Burt said to a panel of microphones. “Today, the rightful criminal is behind bars. I can only hope this means that Kurt will somehow make his way back to us, that he is seeing this broadcast somewhere and capable of coming home. Don’t be afraid, kiddo. Carole and Finn and I are all eagerly waiting for you.”

The screen blurred, a product of Kurt’s tears. He allowed Blaine to cuddle him into his shoulder, relief making him loose.

“Will you come with me?” Kurt asked when he recomposed himself.

“Anywhere,” Blaine said, kissing his temple.


End file.
